


day to night to morning

by sugarboat



Series: Anon Prompt Writing [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Begging, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26274190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarboat/pseuds/sugarboat
Summary: Peter, a charitable soul, helps Jon with his heat.
Relationships: Peter Lukas/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Anon Prompt Writing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889935
Comments: 13
Kudos: 140





	day to night to morning

**Author's Note:**

> 100 words of A/B/O the way you like it

“Come on, Archivist,” Peter panted into his ear, “Ride it like you mean it.”

“Shut up,” Jon snapped, ignoring how the alpha’s stupid tone, stupid face, stupid words sank directly into his stomach. “Honestly, you’re insuf-” His breath hitched as Peter’s hands tightened on his hips, dragging Jon down while he snapped his hips harshly – wonderfully – upwards. “-Sufferable, Christ.”

“Oh, now I know you don’t mean that. And after everything I’ve done for you, too.”

“Please,” Jon practically moaned.

He buried his face against the side of Peter’s neck, hiding in the crook of his shoulder. Peter made some kind of soothing noise, nosing into his hair, but his hips beneath Jon were unrelenting, and his hands trailed down from Jon’s hips to cup and grope his ass, to spread him wider – as if that were even possible – fingers brushing against his own cock ramming into Jon.

And fuck, it was good. Jon hated how good all of it felt, the stretching burn of Peter inside him, the slick drag of his cock as it filled him and the hollow ache it left behind, spurring Jon to drive himself down onto it again and again. Even the clenching of his thighs and the pain of his knees digging into the wood base of the chair somehow only added to the haze, his hands clawing at the thick muscle of Peter’s shoulders.

He felt the base of Peter’s cock thickening and that was good, too. More than good. Good enough that Jon stopped registering things that weren’t important. Like whatever garbage was no doubt pouring out of Peter’s mouth at the moment. Like how utterly idiotic this entire decision had been. Like anything beside the alpha’s growing knot, needing it inside him. Keening every time it pulled free, stretching him relentlessly, panting his own mindless words - please and Peter and yes, yes - his entire body seeming to scream at him, cock aching and leaking between but nothing was as important as taking his knot, as locking them together, as getting filled with everything Peter had to give him.

“Don’t worry, Jon,” Peter said when he ripped himself free, and held Jon, squirming and nearly sobbing with need, above his cock, “I’m going to give you exactly what you need.”

Before forcing himself back inside him, knot and all, and Jon shuddered, spasming around him. Relishing every moment of it, the hot surges of come flooding him, the way Peter jerked his hips but didn’t succeed in parting them. Enjoying even the long groan Peter gave as he was buried to the hilt and emptying himself inside Jon, hands around Jon’s hips and fingers digging into his back.

That was all Jon knew for a while. Peter’s hands running up and down his spine. Their bodies pressed as flush together as could be managed, given their positioning. The hot length of Peter’s cock throbbing and hard still inside him, the almost dizzying relief of being bred – properly, some dumb animal part of his brain added. Jon sagged against him, scenting at his neck, shifting and clenching every now and then just to languish in the feeling, and hear the sharp intake of Peter’s breath when he did so.

Eventually, of course, that floating feeling began to fade. Hastened as Peter decided it was time for him to start talking again.

“Back to yourself yet? I do have work to do, you know. I don’t know how you and Elias managed to get anything done at all, if you were always this hungry for it.”

“Do you ever get sick of listening to yourself?” Jon asked, rousing from where he’d slumped forward so he could glare at Peter properly.

“Feeling sensitive? It’s all right, Archivist,” Peter said. His grin was wide, and particularly irritating. “After all, you’re at your best when you’re taking cock, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Of course I mind you-” Jon stopped himself.

Getting frustrated was exactly what Peter wanted him to do. What pleasure Peter got from incessantly goading him was completely lost to Jon, but by now he shouldn’t be surprised by it. They were going to be locked together for a while yet, too. Jon sighed.

“Oh, giving me the silent treatment now?”

“I am not-” Jon shifted again, shivering at the tug of Peter’s knot against his rim. “Look. We’ve done what we came here to do-”

“What you came here to do, Jon-”

“So let’s just- pretend to be civil for the next few minutes and we can return to thinly veiled animosity once there’s significantly more space between the two of us.”

“A one and done kind of heat, is it?” Peter asked him. He sounded amused, of course. Full of himself, but that was basically a given. But it wasn’t as awful and loaded a question as it could have been, and his hands were still stroking at the small of Jon’s back, wide and warm.

“Yes,” Jon answered tersely. “I should be able to manage the rest fine on my own.” He bit into the inside of his lip and then said, as stiffly and awkwardly as the rest, “Thank you, Peter.”

“Thanking me for my knot? Such a good little omega, I never would have guessed.”

Jon was thoroughly distracted from replying by Peter’s hands tightening their grip on him, tugging him into the grinding motion of Peter’s hips, jarring the knot inside him.

“It doesn’t have to be, you know,” Peter said. He kept the motion up, long, slow circles of his hips, dragging his knot against Jon’s prostate and setting off sparks along his nerve endings. “I might be willing to fuck you through your whole heat, if you ask nicely enough.”

“I-I don’t-”

“No need to lie, Archivist. I only just came and you’re already squirming for more, aren’t you?” Peter leaned himself forward to mouth and lick at the side of Jon’s neck, holding Jon steady when he tried to arch away. “Someone needs to keep you slaked, since your Elias won’t be around to do it.”

Jon heard himself give a pathetic whimper, as Peter’s teeth grazed over his skin, threatening to bite down but nothing more. Grinding inside him, refusing to let up, and Jon could feel his body heating up all over again, the scant relief he’d found beginning to slide between his fingers.

“Do you think he’s watching us now? Elias, that is,” Peter asked him. Not slowing his movements, his hands anchored on Jon’s hips, keeping him still. “Tell you what. Why don’t you let Elias and me both know just how badly you need me to fill you up for him, and I’ll consider it.”

The thought of Elias watching was electric, shameful, mortifying in one breath. What would he think of this? What would he say? Part of Jon thought he might even be enjoying the show, that it would be so very in his nature to do so.

“I want to hear you say it, Archivist,” Peter said, voice low and rough in his ear. “Say it, or you’re on your own. Maybe someone in your Archives will take pity on you, but they aren’t going to give you what you need, now are they?”

“Please,” Jon managed. He was rewarded by Peter drawing slightly back from him – his knot lessened enough for movement – and immediately driving back in.

“Please what? I will need specifics, or I can’t be held responsible for any assumptions made on my part. Please leave you empty and alone for the rest of your heat? Please leave you to the mercy of whatever alpha decides to come along the Archives? Please-”

“Fuck me, Peter, please,” Jon gasped. “Please, I need it- your- your cock, your knot, I want you to-”

Cut off again, this time by Peter rising from his seat, hands at Jon’s upper thighs as he scooped him up and tossed him onto the desk. Peter pulled himself entirely free – a loss Jon didn’t find even remotely fair, after everything he’d done to earn it – before thrusting himself in again, pace brutal and demanding.

“Keep talking Archivist,” he said, interrupted by his own ragged breathing, “That’s what you’re good for, right? Or is it just for taking cock? You do it so well, after all.”

Jon was relatively sure he complied. Most of what he said himself was lost in the unrelenting waves of sensation that followed. Peter’s words, in contrast, blazed like brands in his mind. How he was made for this. How good he looked writhing on Peter’s cock. How full he was going to be by the time Peter was done with him. How prettily he begged for Peter’s knot.


End file.
